


Allison Hargreeves: Skirt Provider

by uhhhhiguessthatsalright



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, No Incest, also reggie is a dum-dum because he is, basically it’s me projecting onto klaus, but that’s ok, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhhhhiguessthatsalright/pseuds/uhhhhiguessthatsalright
Summary: Klaus hates the uniforms. He’s sinking in the salty sea of loathing. Luckily, Allison notices and prevents him from drowning.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Kudos: 23





	1. one: what is happening?

**Author's Note:**

> here you go!

CHAPTER ONE

Klaus Hargreeves is on a mission. Usually, his missions are assigned by his father and are somehow dull and terrifying at the same time. Every time the alarms go off, he feels like he just had nine shots of espresso injected straight into his veins without his consent.

He needs to figure out why he hates these uniforms so much.

Really, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with them. Dark blue shorts or pants, a white button up, a sweater vest, a blazer, and some knee socks. The classic private school look. At least the girls get to wear something fun. They get to choose between a plaid skirt with the bells and whistles of the boys’ uniforms or a maroon jumper. 

They had flow and form. They accentuated small waists and swished around their knees.

Pants make him look like a brick, Klaus has decided. Straight up and down sides and hair that would mat down to his head after only an hour of daddy dearest’s rigorous training.

The shorts are only slightly better. The concept is worse, an atrocity, but they at least show a little leg and make sure the world knows he’s a human and not a corn house doll made by uncaring girl scouts.

Ben and Five and Diego and Lither seem to look okay in them, Klaus not so much. 

He floated across the room, towards the wardrobe. Technically, he was supposed to be reading something by Homer, but why would he do that when there was the option to have a crisis? 

He opened the door, making creaking sounds that were far too loud.

There they were. The pants. The shorts. They were taunting him, begging him to rip them up, burn the remains, and throw the ashes out of his third-story window. 

Somebody knocked at his door. It wasn’t Diego, he knocked more harshly, as if his life was on the line. Vanya knocked as if she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to. Ben didn’t knock at all.

He opened the door. Allison stood there, a worried look on her face. 

“Can I come in?”

Before Klaus could think, Allison was on his bed, patting the space left next to her. He sat down, this movement seeming like the punctuation that ended his nonverbal sentence.

“I have a problem. Or more accurately, you have a problem.”

Every bone in his body told him that THIS WAS NOT GOOD. 

“What?”

“You have a problem. I’m here to solve it.”

There went Allison, being bossy and trying to pass it off as care for her siblings, but he didn’t have time to think about that now. There was another person here. Time to shut off introspective Klaus and turn on casual, ‘this is very normal’ Klaus. 

“Please repeat.”

“I told you, I’m here to solve your problem.” She considered that for a second, then added, “Or problems, there could be multiple.”

Daddy Dearest’s training was showing through, even in normal life. The thought of that made him want to shudder, but, luckily, he is most likely incapable of that, as it had never happened before.

“I don’t have a problem,” Klaus said, like a liar.

“Yes you do, you’ve been weird and distant and I don’t know if this is related, but you’re always late to breakfast. Dad is starting to get suspicious.”

Had he been weird and distant? He knew he’d been late to breakfast, but he didn’t think that his little problem with the uniforms would make him seem so different in day-to-day life.

Klaus tried to ignore the fact that his heart was leaping out of his chest. Allison could probably see it.

“Like now,” she said. “You look like you’ve just run a marathon, you’re shaking and sweating.”

Klaus looked down at his hands. He was, in fact, trembling, He could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, wetting his collar and the ends of his hair.

“I guess. Why aren’t you reading Homer, like we’re supposed to be?” 

Klaus always thought of Allison as the rule-following type, unlike himself.

“You’re changing the subject.”

Duh.

“Because the first subject was dumb.”

It wasn’t dumb.

“Or because you didn’t want to answer my question.”

Klaus avoided eye contact with his sister. Deep down, he knew it would only make her more curious. (Was she curious or concerned?) 

Deep down, he wanted to tell her everything.

Klaus hummed in response.

“Look, I just want to know what’s wrong, so I can help you.”

Klaus cleared his throat in preparation. And because he needed to fill the silence that could scream louder than 20 dead people seeking revenge. Why was he nervous again? All he had to tell her was that he didn’t like their uniforms. Simple. Believable. Not a lie at all. 

“I just don’t like the uniforms, that’s all.”

“That’s it?” Allison raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s why you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” She cringed. “No pun intended.”

Klaus giggled. He was still smiling when Allison said:

“What don’t you like about them?”

He sombered at that and shrugged.

“They’re ugly.”

“That’s it?” It was less of a question and more of a judgement.

“And…” He began, shutting his eyes, wishing everything would just go away.

“And?”

Klaus wished Allison weren’t so nosy.

“And,” He wished he would just spit it out. “I don’t feel like myself in them.” He did.

“How?” She seemed more genuine, like she stopped being curious for curiosity's sake and started being curious for his.

“I don’t know.” He looked around. A pathetic excuse for an eye roll. “You wouldn’t know either, you get to wear skirts every day.” 

Allison clearly detected jealousy that even Klaus didn’t decipher in his own head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you and Vanya get to look like humans while I’m stuck looking like a Nokia mobile phone.”

His sister laughed at that. Maybe he wasn’t so different, after all.

“Well then, I don’t know how to help you.”

Klaus thought for a second.

“There is one thing you could do.” He was going for it. “You could let me wear one of your skirts.”

He prepared himself for laughter that never arrived. All that was there was a raised eyebrow on Allison’s forehead.

“I know it’s-“

“Good. It’s good.”

“What?”

“You know who you are, and that’s good.”

Klaus smiled at her. This was unbelievable.

“Hey, you’re alright, it’s fine.”

“Wha-?”

“You’re crying.”

He wiped a tear. 

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

Allison stood up from her spot on the bed, leaving an imprint in the once-fluffy bedspread.

“I should leave, Homer isn’t going to read itself.”

She opened the door and looked back at him.

“I’m not surprised, by the way.”

“Danke,” he called, the door already shut.


	2. and i know things now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> klaus tries on allison’s skirt for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two is up! i know it’s short, but i couldn’t bear to leave the end open like that. enjoy!

Klaus found one of Allison’s spare skirts neatly shoved under his door the next morning. Showtime.

He was already dressed and ready, not expecting his gift so soon. He hastily undid his belt and slid his shorts off. Then, he undid the zipper that was hidden behind one of the pleats of the skirt. Klaus slipped it on and zipped it back up. He turned around to look in the mirror and-

Wow.

He looked good. Really good.

He looked human, for once.

He looked like himself, who he knew he was.

Klaus knew that Reginald would undoubtedly disapprove. He also knew that he was going to be late for breakfast if he didn’t leave now. The bell had rung only 30 seconds or so before he noticed Allison’s present.

He calmed himself, preparing to show the world (or maybe just his family) who he really was.

The doorknob turned, his hands not feeling like his own. Klaus took each stair one at a time, his smile fading into a tight-lipped, nervous stretch of his face.

After a shaky walk down into the basement’s dining room, a brief reconsideration, and a pair of deep breaths, Klaus made his entrance.

Luther scoffed.

Diego didn’t look surprised.

Allison gave him a thumbs up and a knowing nod.

Five was busy working out equations on a clipboard underneath the table to notice anything.

Ben and Vanya both smiled gently.

“What are you wearing, Klaus?” Luther questioned rudely.

“Clothes.”

“You’re a boy. That’s the girl’s uniform.”

“Says who?”

“Dad.”

Several of the siblings sitting before him rolled their eyes, let out a puff of air, or, in Vanya’s case, crumpled into themselves, clearly trying to avoid conflict that seemed to arise whenever the conversation steered towards their “father.”

“We all know that I don’t care about what he thinks.”

Klaus took his seat at the table, the wooden legs of the chair grinding against the worn floor as he scooted in.

The silence was pounding in his ears.

“I think you look nice.”

Vanya? Klaus looked up in disbelief. His sister, Number Seven, was rarely the one to stand up for him, or anybody, for that matter.

He made a point to look at her kindly before speaking.

“Thank you.”

-

Reginald reacted in exactly the same way that Klaus had expected him to. When he arrived for the post-breakfast assignment, Daddy Dearest looked over him up and down.

“You continue to disappoint me, Number Four. First you repeatedly show up late to breakfasts, then you disregard the dress code. Refusing to take things seriously has dire consequences in battle. You should know that by now.”

This speech seemed less like spoken words and more like a series of barks coming from an angry dog-wrangler.

-

Klaus was alright, though.

He had newfound hope for the future and an outfit that he could put on whenever the realities of his life became too overwhelming. 

He always did enjoy making O’l Reggie angry.


End file.
